Summer's Snare

Sitting in class
nothing is retaining
the vibration of vocal chords projected loudly; eardrums numb, and sound waves resigning.
Two more weeks says the inner voice within,
two more weeks until I'm free again.
The Summers snare makes restless students wait.
Sitting in class
nothing is retaining.
the teacher, bloviating.
Must finish strong, but one may struggle, stumble and stagger.
Keep the end in sight, survive this long fortnight.
Sun's warmth beyond brick walls, warm and bright
I hear the distant song that calls;
that of birds and bugs amongst the trees, singing happily in the hasty breeze.
Sitting in class
nothing is retaining
if only these two weeks were quickly fading.
Summers snare is hard to persist
a temptation;
one can hardly ever resist.